Bitter Sweet Symphony
by Phoenix Bradley
Summary: After a horrifying fire, a girl has lost her family, Wonka has lost most of the family that means the most to him, and they're both struggling to pick up the shreds of an old life.
1. The First Sparks

Bitter Sweet Symphony by, Smeagol's girl 

(A/N: THIS IS NOT THE SEQUEL TO SOME ANGEL! Sorry, but it's not September yet. Inspired in part from the book Green Angel by Alice Hoffman. Mandy and her twin sister Megan have always been inseperable, but one afternoon, while the rest of her family goes into town for a little while, Mandy stays at home to take care of the garden. Just as she's about to water the rose bushes, she smells smoke and looks out over the hills to where the town is. A large fire had broken out and she ran into her home for cover. Meanwhile, back at the factory, Willy Wonka can see the fire and retreats into the factory, hiding in there until it's safe. He learns quickly that the majority of the people in town had burned to death, but not everyone, and while walking around to see the rubble and ashes, he catches a glimpse of someone trying to beg for money. Rated T. I own nothing.)

"'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony this life/ Trying to make ends meet, you're a slave to the money then you die/I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down/ You know the one that takes you to the places where all the veins meet, yeah/ No change, I can't change, I can't change, I can't change, but I'm here in my mold, I am here in my mold/ But I'm a million different people from one day to the next/ I can't change my mold, no, no, no, no, no/ Well, I've never prayed/ But tonight I'm on my knees, yeah/ I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah/ I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now/ But the airwaves are clean and there's nobody singing to me now/ No change, I can't change, I can't change, I can't change/ but I'm here in my mold, I am here with my mold/ And I'm a million different people from one day to the next/ I can't change my mold, no, no, no, no, no"  
-'Bitter Sweet Symphony', The Vere (something like that)

Mandy ran past the bushes and trees, the breeze blowing her hair in tangles, dead leaves crunching beneath her bare feet. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of her sister chasing her, determined to catch up to her and tag her before she got the flag across the line. She knew that if she did make it across the line, it'd be a miracle because her sister was much faster than her. Her mother had always boasted about her horse like speed, almost as much as she bragged about Mandy's talent for guardening. Unfortunately, growing plants would not aid much in this round of capture the flag, and she tried her best to pick up speed as she saw her sister gaining on her.  
She was so wrapped up in thought that she didn't watch where she was going and her foot snagged onto a root, launching her up into the air and then back on the ground, tumbling head over heals into the trunk of a tree. Mandy lay there for a minute, eyes squeezed tightly shut, her back throbbing from the root that was digging into it, her skinned knees bleeding, and dirt on her face and up her nose. There was laughing behind her, and she opened her eyes to see Megan walking up to her, smiling. "Are you okay?" she chuckled. "You flew nearly three feet into the air"  
"Ow..." Mandy moaned, slowly working her way to her feet. That was when she realized she had twised her ankle as well. She tripped, and Megan caught her before she could fall again.  
"Whoa! Careful," she chuckled. "C'mon, let's get some ice on that." She helped support Mandy back to the house and they went into the kitchen, putting together an icepack.  
"Where's Mom?" asked Mandy, placing the ice on her ankle as she sat on the counter.  
"She went to the library with her book club, remember"  
"Oh yeah. Did any of them actually read the book"  
"I'm guessing maybe two of them did." Mandy laughed and nodded.  
"Is there any Mt. Dew left?" she asked.  
"Dunno," said Megan, and she turned to the fridge, opening it and looking around. "Uh... one can left I think... yeah. There's only one can left"  
"I'll split it with you"  
"Sure," she said and took it out, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. She poured it evenly into the glasses and handed one to Mandy, then laughed a little. "You've got dirt all over your face, clutz"  
"Really?" she asked sarcastically, rubbing her face. She sipped the Mt. Dew, feeling the cool beverage run down her throat, and relaxed a little.  
"Tomorrow is when you guys are going down town right?" she asked.  
"Yeah," said Megan. "Aren't you coming"  
"Dad said I have to stay here and take care of the garden. Like it'll be gone when we get back"  
"I know. I swear he had a garden fetish or something"  
"Then why doesn't he stay home and do it"  
"It's so stupid, I know"  
"I wanted to finally buy that CD too"  
"Well, if you send your money with me I'll pick it up for you"  
"Okay," she said, shrugging. "Wonder what's on TV"  
-  
"It is over, Wonka!" snarled a deep voice. "Prepare to meet your maker"  
"You can kill me, but another one will take my place!" he shouted back, eyes narrowed, ready to fight. The barrel of the gun pointed at him and his opponent pulled the trigger twice, firing at him. Wonka gave a shout of pain as he fell back and a red liquid ran down his chest in two areas. "Ugh!" he moaned. His opponent stepped up in front of him, pointing the gun at him still, wearing a helmet with a face sheild that he could see his reflection in.  
"Any last words?" asked his rather short opponent in the same deep scratchy voice.  
"FRRRREEEEEEEEEDOOOOMMMM!" he cried, and was hit twice more, sending him toppling backwards dramatically. There was a long moment of silence, and then the short opponent pulled his helmet off, smiling a little.  
"You're really terrible at this game, Mr. Wonka," he said, laughing and setting the paintball gun down. Wonka sat up, pulling his own helmet off and smiling. No, our favorite hero was not dead, but bruised probably since paintballs have a reputation of doing that, and would any of you honestly think this writer would ever have the heart to kill off a man as honorable as Mr. Wonka?  
"You cheated! You got the automatic before I could," he said, standing up and rubbing his sore chest.  
"I didn't even need to turn on the automatic. I beat you fair and square"  
"Oh yeah? Well, only because I let you," he said, trying to show some pride. He may have been an adult, but he was very child like sometimes.  
"Boys?" called a voice and they both looked up.  
"In the paint ball room, Mom!" called Charlie. The door opened and Mrs. Bucket looked in, frowning and shaking her head.  
"Honestly! I told you both not to play paintball before dinner. Now look at you two! You're a mess"  
"He started it," said Wonka, pointing at Charlie.  
"Did not!" retorted Charlie.  
"Both of you, clean up right now"  
"Yes ma'am," they said in unison, walking out of the room, and not making eye contact as they passed her. As they walked, Wonka nudged Charlie, pushing him off to the side slightly, and Charlie pushed back. Wonka pushed him again a little harder, Charlie shoved back, Wonka shoved him, Charlie lost his balance and fell over. Wonka laughed and took off running down the hall, Charlie in hot pursuit behind him. Mrs. Bucket sighed from where she was standing and shook her head. Having Mr. Wonka around sometimes was like having another child around to watch out for. But he had become like a brother to Charlie, and she was greatful to him for that. Even if it did mean she would have to come down there to find the both of them covered in paintball splatters every evening before dinner.  
-  
"But Mom, I don't want to go clothes shopping!" whined Charlie.  
"I'm not arguing with you on this, Charlie," she said, passing him the mashed potatoes. "You're out growing your clothes, and what you haven't outgrown you've managed to get stained in chocolate and paint balls"  
"I don't mind," said Charlie, shrugging.  
"Well I do," she said and Charlie sighed, knowing there was no possible way to get out of this one... unless... He glanced up at Wonka, but to his dismay, Wonka sighed and shook his head, indicating he couldn't think of a way to bail him out this time. Deciding that it was hopeless, he accepted defeat and finished eating in silence.  
-  
Mandy watched in envy as her sister and parents left for the town, waving to her as they pulled out of the driveway. Megan blew her a kiss in a corny fashion, making Mandy laugh and return it with drama. Once they were gone she thought about going back in the house, but decided a walk would be better. She didn't have to get right onto gardening, so she might as well do something more constructive than sit in front of the TV for hours on end.  
If there was one thing Mandy enjoyed her mother bragging about, it was her wild imagination that did not have an 'off' button. All she needed was to be alone for a few minutes, and it'd immediatly kick in. As she walked, she was no longer Mandy who lived in a log cabin near the woods. She was Amanda, the runaway princess who had narrowly escaped a planned marriage to a man she did not love. As she looked up, the trees changed from changing colors with the fall to bright green in the spring, the apple trees full of blossoms, and the grass a deep green with wild flowers around her feet. As she walked farther into the woods, she pretended to be searching for the one and only man she loved who was waiting for her to take here far away from this place. He would take her where she was not forced to be a princess or married or perfect. She could just be herself which was perfect to him.  
She rounded a corner around the trees, and ran to the first clearing she could find. There was a hill where the sun shone down on it, and she ran up to it, standing on the center and looking up at the bright blue skies.  
That was when it all stopped. The sky was not blue, but a dark color close to black. She stared at it, and soon an aroma hit her nose. Not flowers but the smell of ash and smoke. There was a large tree on the hill and she quickly climbed up it to see just exactly where the dark smoke was coming from afdsgjkngFEEDMEFEEDMEFEEDMEFEEDMEFEEDMEiohfioshnekrg.  
Err... my deepest apologies. My cat, Eliot, jumped on the key board when I left for a few minutes to go to the bathroom. I guess he's hungry, so please excuse me for a minute.  
Okay! Now, where were we? Oh yes.  
She climbed up the tree to see where the smoke was coming from, and peered out through the branches. It was then that she realized how high up she was, and could only pray that the branches wouldn't break. At first there was nothing but smoke, but then she was able to see flames leaping around, and could hear the sounds of people screaming. That was when she was able to realize where it was coming from. The town was burning.  
A million thoughts flooded through her head at once, and by the time her family came to mind the wind picked up, carrying sparks to dry trees which immediatly caught fire, and burning ashes. Some of the hot ashes flew into her eyes, and she screamed in pain, letting go of the branch to grab at her eyes, and losing her balance completely. Before she knew it the ground was coming at her at an alarming rate, and the last thing she heard was the sickening sound of her body crashing into the rocks below.  
-  
Wonka looked around the TV room to see what could have possibly captured the oompa-loompa's attention so, and found a large group of them gathering around the TV watching a news flash, none of them saying anything through words or hand gestures. "What's going on, everyone?" asked Wonka, walking over and carefully making his way to the front. "Excuse me," he said gently brushing through them, and then kneeled down so they could still see. An anchor woman was standing in front of, what looked like, large flames, dancing around followed by smoke rising into the sky and turning it black. "Oh dear," muttered Wonka. "Could someone please turn it up?" There was silence and then the volume level appeared in the screen and went up a few notches. "Leave it right there, thankyou. It's perfect," he said after a minute and then it was silent again so they could hear.  
"You are now whitnessing, what must be the greatest tragedy ever to strike this small town. Just a few minutes ago, what started as a few sparks, turned into this horrifying fire. People and store owners are trapped in buildings being burned alive, and right now the screaming you can hear is very unnerving. Firemen have just arrived at the scene, but there is not promise that the death rate will be small. Right now there is no assumption as to what started the fire, but to those who are watching, stay clear of this area until an announcement has been made, saying it is safe. Thankyou"  
His heart fell into his stomach, and the little color he had fled from his face, replacing it with an even pastier white than before. That was when another thought occured to him. What if Charlie and his parents were trapped in one of those buildings too? He didn't care what the anchorwoman had said at the very end, he had to find them before it was too late! Without saying anything to the oompa-loompas, he ran to the Wonka-vator... scratch that. He ran into the Wonka-vator, crashing into the glass door and falling over. It was either because he was so flustered, or the glass was perfectly clean, but he crashed into it, picking himself up running inside the Wonka-vator this time, pressing the 'up-and-out' button, too busy worrying to even take the time to admire the loud smash as the elevator crashed through the ceiling.  
Instead of shooting up into the clouds and a blue sky, the elevator was engulfed in smoke, so black and thick he could barely see anything. Normally it would have occured to him to turn on the emergency fan and blow the smoke away, but it was far from his mind at the moment, so he endured the strain of trying to make out any details around him. About ten minutes later he was finally able to land in a pile of ashes, and climbed out, looking around, the sight scaring him greatly. The flames, for the most part, had been put out, a few areas still burning, but the damage was much worse than he though it would be. In that short amount of time, the fire had managed to burn the majority of the town to the ground, leaving nothing but piles of ashes and rising smoke that was stinging his eyes and throat. There were people running around frantically, searching for family and screaming out names in dispair. All the panic and fear around him got to him and he found himself running around, shouting out Charlie's name over and over, looking around desperately for him.  
There was no call back, no answer or response of any kind. After a few minutes, he began to panic even more, shouting the name out louder, even asking strangers if they had seen him, but to no avail. As he searched there was only one thing going through his head. "This is all my fault," he thought. "If only I could have found a way to keep him at the factory! I could've made up something, why didn't I? Oh dear, this is very bad!" He was beginning to lose hope, like a jet plane when the fuel starts to leak out of it, rapid and dangerous. His hope was nearly gone when he heard a rasping sound not too far away. "Charlie?" he called. There came a long painful intake of breath as a response and he ran over to a building that had collapsed, and looked around the rubble. There were burnt bodies laying around ashes and burnt wood, and after looking around for a minute he felt a hand grab on to his ankle. It was so sudden and unexpected he gave a cry and lot his balance, landing on a burnt beam that still had red sparks on it. Some went flying into his face, and the rest burned through his gloves and burnt his hands. It hurt, oh it hurt like hell, and he flinched, breathing in sharply, and look in front of him at the hand that had grabbed him. The hand was burn and bloody, followed by a burnt arm and singed clothes, then a face, slightly burnt, but not to the point where it was too painful to look at.  
"Charlie!" he cried, kneeling down and starting to pull off the boards and beams that pinned the poor boy down.  
"Mr... Wonka..." he rasped.  
"Sshh," hushed Wonka. "Don't talk. Just lay still, dear boy. Everything's going to be alright. Just lay still, I'll get you out"  
Charlie coughed and layed still, his breathing so scratchy and painful to listen to. Wonka struggled to lift one of the beams off, as it was still burning, and his hands were being scorched raw. He flipped it off at last and caught the first glimpse of the gaping wound on Charlie. He closed his eyes, unable to look at it, not even for a moment, and turned back to Charlie, whose breathing became worse and worse.  
"Don't leave me," wheezed Charlie, his eyes filled with fear. "Please"  
"I'm not going anywhere," whispered Willy, feeling sick inside, and he placed Charlie's head on his lap to support it as he looked around for someone to come. "Somebody!" he shouted, looking around, ash and burns on his face, hands covered in burns, looking far from his usual sharp appearance. "Somebody help"  
-


	2. Haunted

"I'm not supposed to be scared of anything/ But I don't know where I am/ I wish that I could move/ But I'm exhausted and nobody understands how I feel/ I'm trying hard to breathe now/ But there's no air in my lungs/ There's no one here to talk to/ And the pain inside is making me numb/ I try to hold this under control/ You can't help me cuz no one knows..."  
-'Changes', 3 Doors Down

Mandy opened her eyes and looked around. Her body ached, and her eyes were burning. Everything looked very foggy, and she realized it was from the never ending tears that were falling in an attempt to wash whatever it was out of her eyes. When she stood, her ankle gave way, and she barely was able to stop herself from falling to the ground. A pain radiated through her ankle and she realized it was twisted, but fortunately not broken or she wouldn't have been able to stand at all.  
What had happened? She couldn't remember much. She remembered falling... but nothing else. Something had happened. People just didn't suddenly lose conciousness and then wake up with sore eyes and a twisted ankle. Her eyes barely made out the dim form of a tree and that was when a lot of it came back. Smoke... ashes... falling.  
"Mom! Dad!" she screamed, and moved as fast as she could towards the town, limping and stumbling several times, but determined not to fall. As she moved, the smoke got thicker and thicker until she was coughing and feeling dizzy. But she pressed on. She simply had to find them.  
-  
He wasn't moving. The boy had stopped responding to his voice five minutes ago, and now he laid still, eyes staring at the smokey sky, completely glazed over. But Wonka refused to move. Even if the boy was not alive, leaving would be abandoning him. So he sat there, waiting for someone to show up. Anyone. He would have called for help but his voice was so hoarse, and no one would dare venture into this smoke trap and suffocate themselves half to death trying to find him.  
So he simply sat there, motionless, expressionless, empty tears rolling down his dirty cheeks, partially from smoke, partially from pain. He could barely comprehend what was happening, and stared down helplessly at the dead body in front of him.  
"Mom!" screamed a voice, but he didn't look. It felt like he had barely even heard her, like her voice had landed like a small whisper in a roaring wind. "Dad! Megan!" It was a girl, or possibly a young woman, he couldn't tell. The sounds of her screaming were desperate, fearful, helpless. "Megan!" she screamed again, desperate to get a response from someone. He could hear footsteps of someone else approaching and heard the girl run up to the mystery person.  
"Excuse me, sir!" she called, the sounds of a remaining sob in her throat. "Please, have you seen my family? I have a twin sister who looks exactly like I do..."  
There was a long pause and then finally an answer. "I saw them," answered the stranger, a man from the sounds of it. "I saw them go in to that CD store. I didn't see them some out before it collapsed."  
"Thankyou," she sobbed and ran past him (Wonka), and to the remnants of a building across the street from his.  
"Excuse me," he heard another woman's voice, but not to him. "Are you Amanda Jacobs?" A pause.  
"Y-yes. Why? Who are you? What do you want? Where's my family?" Tension had built with each question until she screamed the last part.  
"My name is Hillary Brenton. I'm with social services. I need you to come with me," she said, none too gently. At this Willy finally turned his head in the young woman's dirrection, and saw that is she was an adult, she was a fresh one, not much older than eighteen. Either that or she aged slowly.  
"What's going on? Where's my parents and my sister!"  
"Their remains have already been found... I'm sorry." Her voice had no hint of sympathy, empathy or any pathy in it, and it made him feel a little frustration. "I'm trying to gather up all the children who, like you, have lost their families in this tragedy-"  
"No," she said with a trembling voice. "You won't take me anywhere!"  
"I'm sorry, but you'll have to come with me."  
"NO!" she screamed, and the woman grabbed her by the arm before she could run. The girl fought back, barely, and screamed, trying to pull herself away. With a final desperate attempt, she opened her mouth and bit into the woman's arm. The woman gave a cry of pain, and as soon as she let go of the girl, the girl let go of her.  
"Officer!" shouted the woman, tunring and walking away. The girl fell to her knees, sobbing and shaking. Her black hair was in ratty tangles, there were scrapes all over her face and burns. Her shirt was torn, making it look like she'd just come out of a fight with a thorn bush, and her dark brown skirt that went to her ankles had tears in it and dirt.  
"Megan!" screamed the girl in distress, not calling her but rather shouting it as if in hopeless surrender. He soon heard the sounds of people coming to her, and the girl promptly go to her feet and ran, half limping, away. He would've kept on staring at her, had Charlie not suddenly shifted in his arms.  
-  
The cops finally found Wonka, who hadn't moved from his spot, and helped him find the strength to stand and watch as Charlie was loaded on to an ambulence and taken away. He was not questioned because it was obvious Wonka was not guilty of attempted murder, so instead he was left there in that dark environment. The sun was setting, it was getting dark and all around him were ashes, ruins, and badly burnt buildings an people. The entire setting had been a nightmare, and he had already tried pinching himself to the point of bruising to try to wake up.  
The girl from before had long since vanished, and he'd barely given her anymore thought. All he could think about was how he was going to explain to the four grandparents at home that Charlie's parents were...  
No! He refused himself to think it, not for a moment! Charlie was only a child after all. His parents shouldn't have to die! It was just unnatural and wrong, and... for lack of a better word, weird. This whole thing was wrong, he thought as he looked at what was left of the buildings. It was all so very wrong! It shouldn't have happened, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. It had come and gone like a large sneeze. With the inhale the people were walking around and talking happily around a perfect looking town, and with the explosion of an exhale, everything was in ruins and people and children were dead or dying. He burried his face in his hands. This was all wrong! It couldn't have happened, not here. Not now.  
Something was shifting around nearby, and he turned around, smoke still rising from the ruins of buildings. People were beginning to help search through the reckage, looking for missing family or loved ones. Every now and again he would hear the screams of a mother discovering her child, or some finding a dead body. Through the fading smoke, he could see a figure digging through hot ashes, weeping miserably as she scooped up ashes and ruin, tossing it to the side. She continued it over and over again, not really seeming to have a goal in this. It was more like she was just doing it because she was so lost and confused and didn't know what to do.  
It took a minute, but as he watched her he realized she was the girl from before, the one the social worker was after. He approached her slowly, almost as if she were a deer, ready to run at any moment. She reached out to scoop up more ashed, and he saw the burns all over her arms and hands. This was more than likely not the first place she had been digging through. After a minute, she looked up slowly and craned her neck towards him. "I can't find them," she said, tears falling down her face. "They're gone."  
"What happened to your arms," he asked at length, unable to take his eyes off them.  
"I don't know," she answered. Her eyes looked up at him, but barely meeting eyecontact with him, almost as if she were struggling to see clearly. Her eyes did look a little cloudy, not that he noticed it, and he saw burns on her face, small but visible. Not as bad as her hands and arms. "I don't know what's going on. I don't know where I am. I don't understand what's happening... they were only going to be gone for a few minutes..." Her body was shaking as her sobbing returned and she looked so frail, ready to fall apart at any moment. He felt a stab of pity as he began to understand, she looked how he felt. Confused and ready to fall apart.  
He couldn't stand the sight any longer, and walked away, wandering around pointlessly, looking around at remains of the town and the people. It still felt like a horrifying nightmare, and he wished that at some point he would wake and find it had been just a dream. He wandered around for almost an hour before he finally knew it was time for him to go back to the factory and face the four grandparents. This was not going to be easy, except for maybe grandma Georgina who couldn't remember what she had for breakfast this morning. Tomorrow he would go to the hospital to see Charlie and break the news to him as well. With these grim plans in mind, he sulked away to the glass elevator, but stopped when a strange sight greated him. Someone lay inside of it, curled up and asleep on the floor. Who on earth would do that?  
He pressed the door button with a ding and stared down at her confused. What should he do now? He couldn't just go to the factory and pretend he hadn't seen her... or could he? No. That simply wouldn't do. She was trespassing on his private elevator, and must be ushered off. He would have gently shaken her, but his hands were so sore and burnt, so he poked her with his cane instead. At first she didn't respond, but then shifted with a stiffled moan and looked up, eyes red and slightly foggy. "My dear girl," he said softly. "I don't know who you are, and I'm afraid at the moment I couldn't care less, though that does seem rather rude at a time like this when I should be more sympathetic..." The girl was looking at him funny, and he knew he was rambling. "Just please, kindly get out of my elevator. I would really hate to throw you off as my hands are quite useless." She stood up very slowly and he realized it was the same girl who had been digging around in the ashes earlier. Why was he always bumping into her?  
"Please," she said weakly staring at him. "I don't have anywhere else to go."  
"Go home with your family, then. I'm sure they're very worried for you."  
"They're dead," she muttered fresh tears falling (-she must be so dehydrated by now!- he thought to himself) and he stood there, biting his lip.  
"Oh," he muttered, but knew she knew he had already learned that. She had told him once before after all. "As much as I'd like to help, I'm afraid I can't. But there are shelters and group homes around aren't there? Surely you could find lodging there. Now, if you please, I must be going so... out." The girl scowled and rolled her eyes at him, and staggered out, limping on a very swollen ankle. He pressed the button and felt the elevator shake as it started to lift off from the ground. Though he knew he'd regret it if he did, he let his eyes wander back down to the girl one last time.  
-  
Mandy watched as the man in the funny hat started to rise up into the smokey sky in his glass elevator, and felt as if her last hope was gone. She knew very well who he was, and knew that if even the great Willy Wonka didn't give a rip, no one would. She fell to the ground in dispair, burrying her face in her hands and sobbing. How could she go home? It would be so big and empty, and quiet. Too quiet. Without Megan around, who could she talk to?  
Megan! Her parents had weighed so heavily on her mind that she hadn't really thought of life without Megan until now. What would she do without her? Megan had always been there, she'd always been a part of her life! She had been the only one she'd tell her secrets to, confide in, and trust as much as she did. Losing her was like losing half of her body. She was useless without the other half and knew she'd accomplish more by laying there and waiting for death to greet her too.  
There came the dull roar of... she paused and looked up. Mini jet engines? The glass box that had been flying away earlier, was now landing just a few feet in front of her. The man inside staring at her, looking as if he'd been forced to come. She got to her feet and staggered to the elevator, feeling a little hope at last.  
-  
He had let her on. There was no logical explanation for it nor any good reason for it that he could think of. But that look on her face of utter hopelessness and suffering of being alone must've done it. When he had first told her to go the look on her face was similar to the one he wore when he was a boy and came home from running away only to find his home was gone. Was that it, the feeling he felt he could relate to? Maybe, but now that she was with him what would he do with her? It was not as though he didn't have enough of a sorrowful pit to dig himself out of. The death of Charlie's parents had hit him at full swing, and the pain was heavier than anything he had ever felt before. He knew immediatly as the factory neared that there was a small chance of him sleeping tonight. And how could he work or have ideas and inspirations with such a heavy burden on him? Telling the grandparents the sad news was one thing, but having to tell Charlie? He could barely even begin to imagine it. That was the danger with meeting people, he had told himself a long time ago. Once you get attached to them it was almost impossible to recover from the pain of losing them.  
As he thought more about this, he wondered what the girl was going through. He had lost two very good friends that were almost family to him, but she had lost the only family she had forever. She had no one to go home to, assumming she still had a home. This whole thing had to be killing her. In fact she had barely even looked at him since the elevator had taken off again. A thankyou would have been polite, but since things were so startling and nerve wracking, he was more than willing to let it slide. Manners were the last thing on his mind right now. But he still couldn't think of what he would do with her. Give her lodging of course, no questions asked, but should he offer her a job? That was risky bussiness considering what had happened the last time he had hired humans to work for him.  
"Mr. Wonka," she piped up at last, with the smallest, most frail voice he had ever heard. "I think we're here," she said. He glanced around and realized they had landed already, and wondered how long he had been just standing there, staring into space.  
"So we are," he said, faking some spunk. He knew she had seen right through that, and sighed, not knowing what to say to her. "Are you hungry? Tired? Thirsty?"  
"I just want to sleep," she muttered. He nodded.  
"We really should probably get your eyes looked at. They look so painful..."  
"I'm fine," she muttered. "I just want to sleep."  
"Alright," he said, offering a sad smile -not needing to fake the sad part-. He led her down the hall and into a series of strange and bizzare rooms. After a few minutes of wandering he stopped in the middle of a hall, looking down a row of doors. "Pick a door, any door," he said softly, forcing yet another empty smile. "The color of the door represents the color of the room. But I call dibs on the purple one," he added quickly.  
She didn't seem to even think about the color or care, she just limped forward and grabbed on to the handle of the blue one. Opening the door slowly, she stepped in and looked around. Wonka had been true to his word. Every thing in that room was blue. The bed was blue, the wood work was blue, the cushy seat near a book case was blue (as well as the book case and all its contents), the carpet and walls were blue, and there was the strong smell of blue berries, which was easily predictable. As she looked around, her eyes landed on a mirror -the glass part being the only thing in the room that wasn't blue besides the glass on the windows- and she almost screamed. She could see her sister in that reflection, haunting her like a ghost. It took a minute before she realized it was herself. It had never occured to her, but since she looked exactly like her sister, it was almost as if she'd never leave. Everytime she'd look in the mirror, she'd see her. The pain would never go away, and not even the memory, which she wanted more than anything. She couldn't stop the tears no matter what now, and burried her face in her hands, sobbing again and falling to the floor.  
Wonka knew there was nothing more that he could do now for her, and it would be better to let her have the space to grieve. So he simply told her that if she needed anything to push the large blue button next to the light switch and an oompa-loompa would be at her service immediatly. He could really tell now that she was distraught for she didn't once look up to ask what on earth an oompa-loompa was. So as he left, he sighed and began to think out in his head what he would say to the grandparents.  
----


	3. Burns

(A/N: I luv you all. Really. Maybe I buy you all a llama. They move great, but watch out for the talking ones. They get a little mouthy.)

"I wish I was smarter/ I wish I was stronger/ I wish I'd loved Jesus/ The way my sister did/ I wish that it had been easier/ Instead of any longer/ I wish I could have stood/ Where you would have been proud/ But that won't happen now/ That won't happen now/ There's a whole lot of singing/ That's never gonna be heard/ Disappearing everyday without/ So much as a word somehow/ Think I broke the wings/ Off the little song bird/ She's never gonna fly/ To the top of the world right now/ Top of the world/ I don't have to answer/ Any of these questions/ Don't have no God to/ Teach me no lessons/ I'd come home in the evening/ Sit in my chair/ On night they called me for supper/ But I never got up/ I stayed right there in my chair/ There's a whole lot of singing/ That's never gonna be heard/ Disappearing everyday without/ So much as a word somehow/ Think I broke the wings/ Off the little song bird/ She's never gonna fly/ To the top of the world right now/ Top of the world/ I wished I'd have known you/ Wished I'd have shown you/ All of these things/ What's on the inside/ I'd pretend to be sleeping/ When you'd come in in the morning/ To whisper goodbye/ Go to work in the rain/ And I don't know why/ Don't know why/ Cuz everyone's singing/ We just wanna be heard/ Disappearing everyday without/ So much as a word somehow/ I wanna get my hands/ On the little song bird/ Take her for a ride/ To the top of the world right now/ Top of the world/ To the top of the world/ To the top of the world/ To the top of the world/ To the top of the world"  
-'Top of the World', Dixie Chicks

The news was taken badly by all the grandparents, and before they had time to even shed a tear, Wonka had fled from the scene and locked himself in his office, not returning to them at all the rest of the evening. Mandy remained in her room, never coming out or pressing the large blue button once. She did have a headache, and found the door to a blue bathroom in the back of the room. Stepping inside, she walked over to the medicine cabinet and opened it. There was a blue bottle labeled 'Asprin', and she grabbed it, struggling to open it with burned hands. Once it popped open, she looked in... and thought better of it, setting the bottle back in the cabinet (the contents inside were little blue pills, a risk she couldn't take). Deciding to wait for the headache to fade, she climbed on top of the bed, and curled up into a ball, falling asleep almost instantly.  
-  
There came a dull thud, and Wonka's eyes snapped open. He had dozed unintentionally while he had been sitting at his desk, head in his hands. Unfortunately as his body had relaxed, so had his hands, causing his head to land on the desk none too gently. Groaning and sitting back, he reached up to stroke his temples when the burns on his hands caught his eyes. He had completely forgotten about them and rose to his feet, deciding he'd best get them looked at. The oompa-loompa doctors were very good, and more pleasant to visit than a regular doctor (there was always the guarantee of a lollipop at the end), so he walked down there. About halfway to the elevator, he paused, and considered asking the young lady to come as well. She had been burned worse than him, and he knew she'd need more attention to them.  
Perhaps in the morning, he decided, continuing on. She was exhausted and in too much pain to care about her injuries. Waiting until tomorrow shouldn't hurt anything. So he walked on, preparing himself for the painful process of having his burns treated.  
By the next morning, the girl had finally emerged from her room, perhaps well rested, but certainly not looking refreshed. "I would wish you a good morning, but it appears this morning is far from good, so I wish you morning," said a voice, and she turned to see the man in the top hat, smiling, but looking so tired and miserable. "I need to go to the hospital," she said softly, showing him her arms. "I burned them, I guess. I didn't realize it was so bad..." She shrugged and he nodded.  
"And we should get your eyes looked at while we're at it," he said softly. "Won't do you a bit of good to go blind."  
She nodded and followed him slowly to the hospital/doctor's office in the factory. When she was sat down to have the burns cleaned, he could tell she was afraid of how much it might hurt. Her eyes were big, and she was shaking a little. She looked like a little child about to confront the monster in the closet. When the cleaning did start, she did flinch, and yelp softly, squeezing her eyes shut. He placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her and handed her a tissue for her leaking eyes. "It's okay," he said softly. He had never had to comfort anyone before, but he had seen the way Charlie's mother did it whenever Charlie was upset, and used what he had watched and learned. "It's almost over." She gave a wail inside a closed mouth, and he rubbed her back, gently hushing her and speaking softly to help her calm down a little.  
"It hurts," she sobbed, and he hushed her gently, trying to think of a way to focuse her attention on something else.  
"That's a lovely skirt you have," he said. Actually the skirt was torn and singed, but what was untouched was surprisingly soft. "Did your mother give it to you?"  
"Yes," she said with a shaky voice. "She made it... ungh! She sewed it for me a year ago... ow!" There were times he was sure she would jerk her hand away, but her arm remained where it was until they were finished and moved over to the next.  
"It's very pretty," he said softly. "What was your mother like?"  
"She loved... she loved to sew. She'd sit around and do it for hours... ow!"  
"Did she sew you any other clothes?" he asked, determined to keep her focuse as far from the pain as possible.  
"Yes," she answered, her tears slowing. "Perhaps we can get that one patched then. After all, your mother did make it for you..."  
"I don't want to remember anything about my mom," she muttered.  
"Alright," he said softly. "That's okay." Before they knew it, the oompa-loompa was finished, and she was bandaged up. Her eyes, however, were forgotten about, something Wonka didn't notice until much later. For now, he took her to the kitchen to eat.  
-  
Mandy barely spoke that day, and when she did it was either to ask for directions to a room, or answer any questions he asked her. She didn't cry as much, too drained from before, but it didn't mean she felt better. Just being quiet and watching was an easier way to learn things, like the fact that Wonka couldn't see Charlie yet because he was in a coma. So the sad truth about his parents would have to wait, much to Wonka's relief. Being anti-social, she quickly learned, was not hard here. She and Wonka had eaten both lunch and dinner together in silence, not at all bothered by the on going silence. Actually, the silence did not last long during dinner because as she was about to fork a peice of roast beef she could have sworn she heard electric quitars and voices. As first she thought her head was playing tricks with her after the trauma, but when Wonka looked up as well she knew it was not just her. "It's the oompa-loompas," he said after a minute. "They adore music, and there's just no stopping their singing I'm afraid."  
"It's okay," she said suddenly, the sound of her voice being almost foreign to him, and he expressed this by a hint of surprise on his weary face. "Music always helps me feel better," she added, looking down without a hint of enthusiasm in her voice.  
"Me too," he said. "In fact, I rather enjoy their songs." At this she actually smiled. It was very breif, and her teeth were barely uncovered by her lips, but it faded just as fast, and they sat in silence, listening to the oompa-looma's happy songs. Something that really didn't belong in this particular setting at the moment.  
-  
Three days time had passed since that evening, and during that time they slowly were gaining the strength to converse lightly. The conversations lasted only a few minutes, and there was nothing they ever got out of them, but it broke the terrible silence that seemed to continuously follow them. She quickly learned that Wonka was not a very social man by nature, something that would have normally bothered her, but since her mood had been so rotten the last few days, she found it very easy to deal with, and preffered it to a happy go lucky voice.  
Every so often he would say something that would paint a small grin on her face, but the grins never grew into large smiles or laughter. After a while, Wonka had come to the conclusion that she needed something constructive to do with her time rather than lay around and grieve all day. So he looked around the factory, trying to think of a job for her to do. Nothing at all came to mind as he really had no need for another employee at the moment. But there must have been something she'd be good at, something that she was meant to do. He decided to hold the job idea off for a while, and instead focused on trying to keep her out of her room more often. Then it occured to him. He had been avoiding trips to the grandparents because it had become such a sad place to visit, and he knew that he absolutely couldn't neglect them either -especially not Grandma Georgina- so something had to be done about it. Mandy didn't know Charlie or his parents, so the loss of Mr. and Mrs. Bucket didn't strike her as hard. Perhaps she could visit them regularly, make sure they were given anything they needed, helped them clean around the house, cook them meals. Yes, that should work perfectly. So he brought up the offer during dinner, telling her he'd pay her in cocoa beans. But she shook her head, and told him it'd be too awkward, going into a sad place like that. He frowned and nodded, saying he understood.  
Mandy stared at Wonka for a while, knowing that there must be a reason why he seemed so reluctant to go into that place. She knew it was probably a painflul journey everytime, and wanted to do whatever he could to make the pain as easy to cope with as possible. Thinking of how she could help him in that department made her feel guilty, and it was not like she had anything better to do around here. She stared at his sad purple eyes and finally cracked.  
"Do you have any peanutbutter cups?" she asked softly. He looked up.  
"Hmm? Oh, yes. Why? Would you like some?"  
"If you could pay me in those instead, I'll do it," she said softly. He smiled, eyes sparkling a little and nodded.  
"I believe that will be fine," he said, nodding.  
-  
When she stepped into the crooked house (how Wonka had managed to get it into the factory, she couldn't guess) the place reminded her so much of home. She didn't know why, but it did, which made her nervous. Three old people were sound asleep in a large bed, and one old man was lighting a fire in the fire place. He looked up and beamed, though she could see sadness behind his eyes.  
"You must be Mandy," he said softly. "Mr. Wonka told us you would be coming." She forced a smile, trying to look at least a little friendly for the poor man. She spend the next few hours cleaning, something she had openly objected to in front of her mother several times, but knew it wasn't a good idea to do it to four old people. Once she had finished cleaning the floors, windows, and dusting, she helped prepare dinner for them. Around this time was when the other three began to wake. Grandma Josaphine climbed out of bed at some point during this time and walked over to Mandy to see if she needed help.  
"I've never cooked much," Mandy confessed to her, but recieved a smile.  
"Not to worry, deary. That's why I'm here." Though she didn't mean to, she found herself talking to Grandma Josaphine for the next half hour than she had for the last, almost, week with Wonka. Grandma Josaphine reminded her so much of her own grandma, who had died years ago from old age. Her voice was so kind and loving, and she was very kind to her. After they had finished making mashed potatoes, they had time to talk while the pork was cooking in the oven.  
"Didn't your mother ever teach you how to cook?" Grandma Josaphine asked her.  
"No," she said softly. "Well, once when I was five. I helped her a little with dinner." She had tried to surpress it, but the pain came back, and her tearglands swelled up.  
"Oh, Dear!" said Grandma Josaphine, and she wrapped her up in a loving hug. "There, there. I know it must be hard. Mr. Wonka told us all about it." Mandy drew in a deep breath and nodded in her shoulder. "There there, child, things will look up in time."  
After a minute, Mandy stepped away, and dried her eyes on her sleeve, composing herself at last. Once they were finished cooking, she took her leave, returning silently to her room where she remained for the rest of the night.  
-  
"Mr. Wonka!"  
His eyes slitted open and he looked around. It was still very dark in his room and he could just make out the dim silhouette of an oompa-loompa security guard, dressed like a cop without the gun. He groaned, still half asleep and lifted his head slightly, rubbing his forehead. "What is it?" he asked.  
"It's the girl. She's sneaking out." He sat up, still too tired and wondered for a minute. Girl? What girl? Oh yes! Mandy. Where would she be going to? He climbed out of bed, still half asleep, and pulled on his robe, following the oompa-loompa up to where they kept the security monitors. With the push of a few buttons, a turn of a knob, and the yank of a cord that Wonka was still unsure of what it was really for, the image switched over to outside the factory. Mandy came in through the side, wandering up to the gate and standing there for the longest time.  
"She can't get out unless we open it," muttered Wonka to no one.  
"Should we keep it shut?" asked the oompa-looma.  
"No," he said after a minute. "Bug her first. And then let her go."  
The oompa nodded and pressed a red button with a picture of a beetle on it, then zoomed the screen in to get a closer look. A tiny, barely noticeable black dot suddenly whized into veiw and landed on her neck. "Alright," said Wonka, yawning as fatigue began to come over him again. "Open the gate." The gate swung open and she glanced back at the factory for a minute. Then, turning around slowly, she ran off and down the sidewalk.  
"I want you to install a security monitor in my room, okay? I want to see where she's going."  
"Right away, sir," said the oompa-loompa and Wonka nodded, leaving them and returning back to his room to catch whatever sleep he could get.  
-


	4. Of Raiders and Death

(A/N: Irewrote this chapter. Same idea, just written differently. Don't know if this makes it better, but this was what was originally written before I went on vacation. Her ya go!)

"Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up/ Am I still your charm, or am I just bad luck/ Are we getting closer, or are we just getting more lost/ I'll show you mine, if you show me yours first/ Let's compare scars, I'll tell you who's is worse/ Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words/ We live on front porches and swing life away/ We get by just fine here on minimum wage/ If love is a labour I'll slave 'till the end/ I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand/ Been here so long, think that it's time to move/ The winter's so cold, summer's over too soon/ Let's pack our bags and settle down where palm trees grow/ I've got some friends, some that I hardly know/ But we've had some times, I wouldn't trade for the world/ We chased these days down with talks of the places that we will go"  
-'Swing Life Away', Rise Against

Stepping into her house was like stepping back to a memory long forgotten. The smells were all the same, but it was so much quieter inside, making her feel almost out of place. She had only come for one reason, she had to remind herself. Wearing the same clothes for nearly a week, though she couldn't have cared less about her appearance, was going to give her a very unattractive aroma. She had to grab her clothes, and get out as quick as possible. Every moment spent in there reminded her too much of what she had lost, and she wanted as little of that as possible.

Her bedroom was down the hall, second door to the right. That was her destination, so she turned to it, not wanting to linger in the kitchen for any longer. The floor boards creaked under her feet, and her footsteps echoed so loudly throughout the hall. It was so lonely in there now without the sounds of her mother's voice, her dad's computer games resounding from his office, and her sister's singing...

Tears formed in her eyes, but she shunned them and expelled them from herself. She had enough time to cry. It was time to get over it and move on like everyone else was. Even the grandparents were moving on -partially because half of them are nearing alzheimer's, her mind retorted- but she simply couldn't mope anymore. It made her useless and a bigger burden to Willy Wonka. She found the door to her room and opened it.  
----

A door swung open and inside the small room was a bed with a slightly old and worn quilt on it (possibly made by her mother), a poster of Jimi Hendrix on one of the walls, a scrap book on the floor, laying open with photos he couldn't quite see, and book shelves with books stacked on them none too neatly. The room was much smaller than the room she was in now, but the more he thought, the more Willy Wonka began to wonder, was she going to come back?

He saw her hands reach out and open the drawer to her dresser. She cleared it out of its contents, repeating this with the next drawer. Then she went to the closet and retrieved a denim shoulder bag and stuffed her things into it, including a few books from the shelves. As she was bent over to do this, her eyes strayed over to the mirror on her vanity, and she turned her head to look at herself. Her hair was very messy from not being tended to, and her face was very dirty. The foggyness of her eyes made him realize with a jump that they had never been looked at. "Oh dear," he muttered, and hoped it wasn't too late for something to be done about them.  
----

Glancing down at her pack, Mandy knew she'd barely be able to get by with the clothes she had, and didn't even have a sweatshirt for when it would get colder. Not that it would matter, the factory was strangely warm all the time. But it would be good to have one just in case...

Her head turned to Megan's room. Taking one of her sweatshirts seemed so wrong, like she was stealing from her. Yes, she was... dead, she had admitted to herself with a sharp bite to the lip that drew blood. There was nothing for it, she knew. One day she would probably not be in the factory and it'd be just bad of her not to have something warm to be prepared with.

Taking in a deep, uncomfortable, breath, she proceeded to the door and opened it. It was dark in there, and she flicked on the lights, looking around unsure before stepping in. This felt so weird to her, like she had just stepped into foriegn territory. Part of her expected Megan to come barging in to shout, "Get out of my room!" and letting herself think that helped it not feel so sad and gloomy. There was a grey sweatshirt laying conveniently on her bed, and Mandy snatched it up, wanting nothing more than to get out of there quickly. But as she went to set it in her pack an uneasy feeling crept over her. She felt like she really was being watched, and turned her head to look around.  
----

"What's she doing?" muttered Wonka to himself. Mandy had not moved for nearly five minutes, and he began to wonder if she had fallen asleep standing up. It wasn't till she shifted slightly that he threw this suspicion out the window and into on coming traffic where it leapt around to avoid cars like Frogger. He could hear noises coming and suddenly felt as nervous as she must've been. Someone was in that house too, and it could have been anyone. Unconciously he clenched his hands together and watched fearfully.

From the window behind her, he saw something run past, and Mandy jerked her head in that dirrection, running to the window to look outside of it. Soon there came the sounds of voices, talking eagerly amongst themselves. A small group of teenagers had all gathered around the house, raiding the the garden of any food it had, all of them looking like they were half starved. Even though stealing was one crime he had learned to loathe over the years, he could not help but feel pity for them. They must've all, like Mandy, lost their families in the fires and were now doing whatever they had to to survive. Mandy must've felt the same because she moved away from the window where they wouldn't see her, and didn't stop them.  
----

It was getting dark out by the time the raiders were gone, and Mandy had gone around the house, gathering everything she needed. One last item she had taken while walking out the door were her mother's sharp sewing needles and a small bottle of black ink. Walking down the dark streets was miserable, and as she looked around, she realized she didn't need her imagination to make any of this more interesting or intense. People were hurt, dead, dying. Families had been left to scratch through the ashes, trying to start over again or pick up from where they left off. Even though, there was pain in everyone's eyes, in some of them there were signs of hope as if their spirits weren't crushed at all by this. She couldn't understand how people could get so strong like that on the inside, and wished she could be like them, able and willing to keep on going.

"From the ashes a fire shall be woken," she sang softly to herself, thinking of her favorite books. "A light from the shadows shall spring. Renewed will be blade that was broken. The crownless again shall be king..."

"And what does that mean?" asked an unfriendly voice. Mandy turned her head and looked down on the ground. Sitting there, wearing torn clothes and looking sick was a girl she knew from school. "That you actually think there's hope left in this hell hole?" she spat. "Look around you! Do you see any hope? People are dead! Families are destroyed, and some of us have nowhere to go but hell."

"Lana," said Mandy softly. "What happened to you?"

"My house burned to the ground, that's what. Everyone inside died except for me! My baby brother died in my arms!" Tears rolled down Lana's burnt and dirty face. "I saw the smoke and ran into the house. By then the fire had gone in every part of the house except my brother's room. I climbed in through the window to save him, and he still died. He suffocated from the smoke."

"I'm so sorry!" cried Mandy, kneeling down in front of her broken friend.

"There's nothing left for anyone here," wept Lana in hatred. "This entire town it going to die, and there won't be any 'hope' or 'new beginning'. It's over!" Mandy couldn't find the words to say because if she tried to reassure her she'd be a hippocrate. A lot of her still felt the same was Lana did, but admitting that to Lana wouldn't help things either.

"Where are you living now?" she asked at lenght, tears in her own eyes.

"I slept in a dumpster last night. I don't got any place to go."

"My house is unlocked. Use it. Sleep wherever you want, eat whatever you can find in there."

"I don't want your pity," said Lana darkly.

"I'm not giving you any. The place isn't being used anyway. My family died too."

"Including Megan?" she asked. Mandy bit her lip and nodded bitterly.

"The house is available to you if you want it alright?" she said, and left with that, not wanting to talk about her sister. It still was too soon, too fresh and raw. Maybe one day she'd be able to talk about her without feeling this way, but right now she couldn't.  
----

The minute she stepped into the factory she knew something was wrong. Everything was a lot more quiet than usual, even the oompa-loompas seemed less cheerful. Willy Wonka was nowhere in sight, and she began to worry. Quietly, she went to her room and put her pack in there, deciding to worry about putting the clothes away later.

"Mr. Wonka?" she called softly, looking around. There came no answer, and she began to regret not taking the time earlier to learn her way around the factory. She went to the door to the purple room and knocked on it. Still nothing, and she didn't want to open the door for fear of making him angry. Not knowing what else to do, she wandered around, hoping to find him since bumping into him had seemed very easy lately.

The halls were long and confusing, changing colors so rapidly it gave her headaches. After a minute of walking around, she spotted an oompa-loompa, and knew that he must surely know where Wonka was.

"Hey!" she called, running up to it. "Sorry to bother you... Where's Mr. Wonka?"

"He went to the hospital," answered the oompa. "The boy's dying." Mandy's jaw dropped and she turned around, running back down the hall. As she ran back to her room, the hallway suddenly looked very foggy, and she had to stop, squinting wildly to adjust her vision. Ever since the day of the fire, her vision had been cloudy, but it was like it suddenly took another downward stroke in those few seconds.  
-


	5. A Small Comfort

(A/N: CHAPTER FOUR HAS BEEN REWRITTEN SO READ THAT BEFORE YOU READ THIS!

Like I said, not sure if this makes it any better, but there it is, and on to the next chapter. You've already read the beginning, but the rest is new.)

"All this pain locked up inside of me/ On my knees I prayed you set me free/ I know you hurt/ But I really do understand/ I'm the one who held your pain when I became a man/ Speak to me so I hear somethin'/ Turn my eyes so I can see/ You touch fear and I feel somethin'/ Sweet salvation cover me/ Take me where I long to be/ Pick me up and carry me/ Oh I need your love/ It's such a long way home/ Even though I fall sometimes/ Nothin' here can change my mind/ Oh I need your love/ It's such a long way home"  
-'Long Way Home,' Guardian (the greatest band in the world!)

Mandy rushed to the hospital, not knowing what else to do. She really didn't want to see a dying kid, but there was nothing for her to do there. Now that she thought about that, it made her sound rather sick. And Willy Wonka had been there for her while she was struggling, she might as well be there for him. No one else would be. She couldn't imagine what that would be like, going through that without anyone there for comfort.

But no matter how much this seemed to justify her going, it didn't help her at all or prepare her for what she was about to see. The nurses showed her the room without any trouble, something she hadn't been expecting, and when she went in there she found Willy Wonka sitting on his bed, holding Charlie as he struggled to breathe. She suddenly didn't feel right being there, so she stood outside the window, watching as Charlie slowly died.

The boy's face was burnt so bad, she almost vomited at the sight. He looked like he was in excrutiating pain, but in his eyes there seemed to be a sort of peace. Mandy stared at his eyes the longest, wondering how he could look so peaceful even if he was about to die? It was wrong, no one looked like that. She had seen many dying faces during the fire, and none of them looked like that. What was so different with him? She had it better off than him by a sliver because she wasn't dying, it made her feel bad.

Willy Wonka did not have that same look, however. He was scared, she could see it in his eyes. He was trying not to let Charlie see it, but she knew he was a wreck, holding him like that. Tears were rolling down his face, and he was trembling. If his face had any color to it, it would have vanished in that moment. Mandy began to regret coming even more, especially when Charlie noticed her. His eyes looked dirrectly at her, piercing, and it hurt her inside. Tears broke out on her face, and the boy's head fell back, the silence being broken by a loud piercing beeping sound.

Mandy would never forget what she had seen, and couldn't stand to see any more. As if on cue, her eyes seemed to fog up even more, and much to her dismay, it wasn't due to tears. Backing away from the window, she found a seat on the bench across from the room, drawing her knees up under her chin, sobbing silently, barely making out anything through the shadows creeping over her eyes.  
----

That night, she returned to the factory long before he did and locked herself in her room, not coming out for the rest of that night. It wasn't till around three in the morning that Willy came back, looking ready to die himself. He looked exhausted, and hardly said two words to anybody. When Mandy finally came out of hiding, she couldn't find him anywhere. So instead she went to the Bucket's house, knowing it was time for her to go to work anyway.

The house was so much different when she stepped inside, however. Everyone was so quiet, more than before, and there were no smiles going around at all. Even Grandpa Joe stayed in bed, barely greeting her when she stepped in through the door. So she worked in silence, humming occasionally to break the silence. About an hour went by like this before Willy Wonka showed up, walking in through the doorway silently.

"Hi," he said softly. "Is Mandy in here?"

"I'm right here," she called softly from the kitchen, he turned so he could see her.

"Oh, all right. I wasn't sure if you were here yet or not."

"I'm here," she said. "Why? What do you want?" He noticed that she was just making eye contact with him, and bit his lip, knowing her sight was getting worse. He also noticed some strange design on her forearm that resembled a bat... or some sort of bird with a rose.

"Uh..." he muttered, snapping out of thought. "The oompa-loompa's are going to cook them supper tonight, so whenever you're done cleaning, you can leave."

"Okay," she said, feeling slightly relieved that the remaining Buckets were not left to the mercy of her cooking. There'd be no Buckets left if that were the case. Hearing Willy say anything without any bounce or spunk in it was so strange, and she hated it. Even the happiest person she knew was crushed, making her feel even worse.

He took his leave, not even saying goodbye or looking at her, and when she was done, she did the same, not knowing what to say to the Buckets. Walking down the long stretche of hallway, she ran her hand along the wall so she could feel her way through, and held another hand in front of her so she would feel if she was about to bump into something. It was dark, making it all the more difficult to navigate the factory, so it was no surprise that she nearly jumped out of her skin when someone caught hold of her hand.

Despite trying not to, she screamed, and heard a soft, "Ssh! Ssh! It's just me. Don't scream please." She caught her breath, recognizing Willy's voice, and calmed down at once. "My dear girl, what are you doing out here in the dark? Goodness, can you see a thing?"

"No," she said honestly. She heard him click his tongue, and he locked his arm with hers, leading her to her room. They were both silent, and when he opened the door for her, a small beam of moonlight helped her see things a little better.

"Here we are," he said softly. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Something to drink please," she answered. "I don't care what." He left and returned shortly with two mugs of hot cocoa with a hint of mint. It was surprisingly refreshing, and she sat on the floor with her back leaning against the bed, Willy sitting down across from her.

"Is that a new sweatshirt?" he asked softly. "It looks nice." Mandy was silent for a minute before answering.

"It was my sister's," she answered, the pain hitting her like someone punching a bruise.

"I didn't know you had a sister," he muttered. "Older or younger?"

"Neither. We were twins. She was older by two minutes."

"Wow, twins? I've always wondered what it would be like to have a twin. Identical?" Mandy nodded. "That would be something, wouldn't it? Of course I'd get confused on which one was me, and between the two of us, I think most people in this factory who think one of me is bad enough."

Finally, he had said something light hearted, and she gave him a small grin, even though she hadn't felt like it. "We looked alike, but we didn't really act it. She was more athletic and I was the one who cheered her on from the sidelines. I think the only thing we had in common was a love for pizza and a hatred for green vegitables." Willy chuckled and nodded.

"You both had good taste," he said, smiling, seeming to forget about being sad. He still didn't know she had been there and seen the whole thing. The image of Charlie's head falling back was stuck in her head, and she would never forget it. "Are you all right?" he asked, noticing she'd been zoning for a while.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "It's just... too weird," she muttered.

"What is?"

"This. Talking and laughing like this... like nothing's happened. Like people out there aren't dead, like that town is still in one piece. It's just... weird. It doesn't feel right." Whatever light she had seen pefore on Willy's face vanished, and she felt something inside her slap her for bringing him down.

"I know," he muttered. "This is all messed up isn't it? I never thought something like this could happen ever. It seems very unfair sometimes doesn't it?"

"You have no idea what it's like," she cried, wiping her eyes. She hadn't really meant it, but the words were out before she could stop them.

"Don't you dare say that!" he snapped, making her jump. "You think I don't know how unfair it is? Last night a boy, a young boy, died in my arms! And you know what? He wouldn't have been in that place if I had done something to keep him from leaving, which I could have." Tears had flooded and overflowed from his eyes. "I could have easily made up some excuse to keep him at the factory but I didn't. And now I've got that hanging over me, so don't you dare tell me what unfair is!"

Mandy was silent, tears just barely keeping from falling. Willy wiped his away and got to his feet. "He was just a kid," he said before leaving. "Kids aren't supposed to die"  
----

Willy had stormed into his office, slamming the door behind him. He was fuming. and all from one comment, one, probably innocent, comment. 'You have no idea what it's like,' she had said. He had lost his heir, and part of that family he had grown so close to. What had she lost?

That was when he had to stop and think. Her mother was gone. He had never had a mother around so he threw that one out. Her father was also gone. He and his father, until almost a year ago didn't even speak with each other, so that was tossed out too. Her twin sister, that almost added up to him losing Charlie he supposed. So she had lost her entire family. And in thinking that something bit him. At least he still had a father.

Perhaps he had been too harsh. They both were miserable, and undeniably grouchy from barely being able to sleep. He had been wrong in shouting at her, he knew that for certain now. Standing up, he knew he should apologize instead of leaving their conversation on that note. But she wasn't in her room, he soon discovered. Before he could even wonder where she was, he spotted the note on her bed. She had gone to the Bucket house, it read, and he walked off in that direction, wondering what had possessed her to do that. His answer came the minute he opened the door.

Mandy was sitting on the bed next to Grandma Josaphine, head resting on her shoulder, Grandma Josaphine's warm arm over her shoulders, both of them in tears. She glanced up at him with hazy eyes, and he walked over there without saying a word, and pulled up a chair so he was sitting closer to her. Of all the places he had thought of going to for comfort, if he had thought of any, this was not one of them. There seemed to be too much pain around this place, and he had been avoiding it on purpose, feeling terrible about it too. He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it softly, tears falling down his face. No one really knew how long they stayed in there, barely saying anything over the tears. But in some strange way it seemed to help. Being in a sad place helped them as they all clung on to each other's hands, showing that they were there for each other.  
-  
(A/N: I hate to do this, but this story is going to go on pause while Listen to the Rain is being posted. That story has been long awaited and you'll have to survive on that while I work on finishing this one. Don't worry! It's not the end of this story. Just think of it as an intermission. Thank you.)


	6. Smile

(A/N: Yeah, I'm back! Before I continue with this, I just want to say my heart goes out to all the hurricane Katrina victims. What happened was horriffic, and the terrible stuff that's going on there is completely unfair. You're with me in my prayers.)

"One more mile till I lay rest/ I have put myself through this wretched test/ But the mile is never ending/ No distance has been gained/ I do not see greatness I wanted to obtain/ Where in my embrace/ From the race he died of running/ I've kept a steady pace/ But still I have not won/ Rest easy, have no fear/ I love you perfectly/ Love drives out fear/ I'll take your burden/ You take my grace/ Rest easy in my embrace"  
-'Rest Easy,' Audio Adrenaline

Some days later, Willy had finally decided to turn on the TV and see what the latest was on the fire damage. The images flashing on the TV screen weren't as horrible as they had been, but every so often they'd flash something that would make him want to turn off the TV.

"Why is God punishing us?" cried an old woman to the news reporter. "What have we done that's so horrible?" The camera moved to a family standing beside the ruins of their house. An old man and three children.

"Momma went in to save the baby," said the littlest girl, tears falling down her face. "She never came out so then daddy went in after her. None of them ever came back out."

"We're all dying out here!" shouted the next woman the camera cut to. "People have lost everything they own, and I don't see how they could possibly rebuild this place. I honestly don't."

"Despite the ever rising doubt," said the news reporter finally. "It's been confirmed that the town will be rebuilt. For information on how you can lend your support, visit our website at- click!" He shut it off, needing to run his sleeve over his eyes, and left, trying not to think about what he had seen.  
----

Willy couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something wasn't right with Mandy. Ever since that night in the Bucket's house she was much more quiet than before. He couldn't do anything to make her smile, and lately there had been more tattoos appearing on her body. Mandy had also taken to holding her hands out in front of her occasionally to find her way, and he knew it was too late to save her eyes. Any day now he knew she would be fully blind, and it pained him to think of it, knowing that it was mostly his fault.

Whenever he passed her room, he could hear the sounds of her crying inside, and wished there was something he could do about it. That was the first time he realized that sometimes not even chocolate can cure a sad situation. But it wasn't healthy, leaving her there crying like that. He was sure that she would dehydrate soon, or someday the pain would just be too much and...

That tore it. He had to go in there and do something. He never had thoughts like that, and he didn't want to even begin to imagine her doing something as horrible as that. There had been enough d... dea... he couldn't even think the word! He gagged on it almost as much as he had 'parents'. So he went into her room one night so check in on her.

An oompa-loompa stood in front of Mandy, handing her a piece of paper with a drawing on it. He couldn't see what was on it from that distance, so he got closer, Mandy not seeming to notice. The oompa-loompa had drawn her, at least... he thought it was her. She was smiling which was substantially different, and she was wearing her hair down in free curls. Lately she had been wearing her dark chocolate hair in a ponytail, revealing yet another design on her neck, or near it at least.

"It's beautiful," she said softly to the oompa. "But that's not me. Not anymore." The oompa-loompa, not really knowing how to communicate with her properly, placed a hand on her shoulder, pointed to the picture and then at her, signalling that he knew it was her. With that, the oompa left silently and Willy gave a half sad smile.

"I see you've met Jed," he said softly. Mandy looked up at him. "He's an artist and comes up with most of the candy wrapper designs. I think he was trying to help you."

"No one can help me," she said softly, setting the drawing down on the blue nightstand, not seeming to care about it anymore. Willy stared at the bizzarre tattoos she had created all over her right arm and cringed.

"When you make those," he said softly. "Do they hurt?"

"A little," she said softly, fingering one absentmindedly. "Can I help you?" she asked after a minute. He seemed to have forgotten why he had come in there at all, and kept on staring at the tattoo. She decided to ignore him and climbed back on to her bed, grabbing one of the needles and proceeding to create a new one on her leg. It looked painful, and part of him wanted to walk away from the sight, but he stayed. He watched every drop of blood fall, every careful movement she made, forming the design, and then before he knew it she was done.

After a long silence, Willy finally spoke up. "Why do you do that?" he asked. She looked up at him but didn't answer. "You've got to have a reason."

"It helps," she said dryly.  
----

"I just don't know what to do," said Willy sitting on the comfy leather couch in his shrink's office. It had been a long time since he had found himself needing to talk to him. "I want to talk to her, but every time I try she says such horrible sad things, and I agree with most of them which is nuts. I've always tried to be as happy as humanly possible, but it's like she knows just what to say to keep me down and feeling like -choke!- normal people... ugh!" The shrink eyed him in surprise, seeming to know this was very serious. Anyone who could make Willy feel like a normal person had to be very powerful. "Obviously things are getting serious," said Willy after a few minutes, letting the poor oompa-loompa recover from shock. "Oh, by the way, do you happen to know anything about self-injury?" Again, the shrink eyed him with shock. "No!" cried Willy. "I'm not doing it and I'm not thinking about it so don't you dare write that down. It's Mandy. She makes these... tattoos I guess they are, all over her arms. I don't know if that qualifies as self-injury really because the whole idea either way is gross. But either way it's not healthy and I was wondering if I should be doing something to stop it."

There was silence and he could hear the oompa jotting something down. "I can't just go raid her room of anything sharp. That's unreasonable, isn't it? It'd be stealing..." He stopped and thought about it. "But that's it. If I did steal those, I'd be stealing her only hope of getting through this, so in a way it's her way of recovering. I shouldn't take that away from her then should I?" The oompa didn't answer and he sighed, still not knowing what to do. ----

Mandy walked around silently through the candy garden. It was night time and dark, but the fake moon above her was convincing enough, and just as beautiful as the real deal. Around her neck was her headphones, the volume cranked up so she could hear the music faintly. She had never been able to be in the dark and actually wear them on her ears. It would be too easy for someone to sneak up on her, but if they were around her neck, she would have a better chance of hearing that.

Freddie Mercury (god forgive me if I spelled his name wrong!) sang about being a poor boy with his golden voice, and she smiled, knowing she would die a Queen fan. She wished the man was still alive so she could go to an actual concert, but some things just weren't meant to be. "Momma... oooo... I don't wanna die! Sometimes wish I'd never been born at all!"

"Goodness, I hope not!" came a voice, and she turned to see Willy Wonka, standing under one of the candy trees. She smiled almost ghost like and he stepped up to her, tipping his hat in a corny fashion. "Aren't you out a bit late?"

"Couldn't sleep," she muttered. "What's your excuse?"

"Well, I thought I heard a shrieking coyote in a trash compactor in here, but then I came and found you... I guess you could call that singing... if you're a banshee anyway." She rolled her eyes.

"Cute," she muttered and turned, but he stopped her.

"You like Queen?" he asked. She nodded.

"A lot," she answered. "My dad's the reason I've heard of them. He used to play their old records all the time. When I was five I'd dance to them in my underwear-" She stopped, turning bright red (enough to be seen in the dark), and turned away from him. "...and that's probably more than you needed to hear..." He giggled nervously and looked away from her.

"Yeah. Kinda." She looked so embarassed, and he smiled sympathetically. "Well... It's not like we all didn't dance around in our underwear at one point or another. I mean... I've done it."

"Exactly! See? Nothing wrong with it. I think everyone should have the freedom of dancing in their underwear and not be discriminated against."

"That's what this country was founded on, the freedom to dance in your underpants."

"Precisely!" They stopped to actually think about what they were preaching about and laughed nervously, realising how embarassing the topic really was. In reality, she didn't want to picture Willy dancing in his underwear, but it made her wonder if he wore boxers or briefs. Boxers, she hoped.

"You see?" he said after a minute, and she looked at him, trying not to think about what she had just been thinking about. "You can smile." She smiled, his purple eyes catching her attention. Now she wondered if they were natural or contacts? They both sat down in a patch of grass near the waterfall, talking for a while before without meaning to they both crashed right where they were, sleeping peacefully under the fake stars.  
----


	7. Healing

Weeks went by and Mandy gradually got better, her smiles occuring more often, and her laughter no longer a strange thing. She was changing inside, and he wasn't worried for her as much as he had been before. But watching her get better only meant one thing, and he dreaded it. Soon she'd be ready to leave and go home again. In his heart, he knew she couldn't stay with him, though he was certain they would both like it that way. She was once lively and spirited. Couped up in the factory was not where she belonged, and he knew he had to accept that.

Eventually the day did come when she finally requested to leave, and he let her go, escorting her to the door of the factory, and accepting a warm goodbye hug from her. Then she left, her bag over her shoulder and her hair free of its pony tail, bouncing around at her shoulders.

Tears came to his eyes as he watched her go, and it took him a while before he finally was able to pull away and step back into the factory, closing the door securly behind him.  
----

(Five years later...)

A husband and wife kissed in front of the Christmas tree, and a little bald baby crawled around in front of them, easily entertained by the loose wrapping paper on the ground. Mandy stood up, collecting her baby from the living room floor, and carried him to his bedroom, beginning the process of putting him to bed. The baby cooed and babbled at her, then fussed, and finally gave in, falling asleep on its back, a baby blue blanket laying over his chest.

She smiled, fingering his tiny fist lovingly, then kissed his forehead and whispered a sweet goodnight. Her husband went to bed a half hour later, and she was left to clean up the wrapping paper as usual. Whistling a tune and walking around with ease, she gathered up the scraps in a black trash bag, then went outside to place it in the trash can.

It was cold and windy out, not that that was unnatural for December, but that didn't make it pleasant. She drew her dark brown sweater tighter around her as she walked, and attempted to whistle outside. There was no luck, and when she reached the can, she was certain she had frozen half to death. She turned her head to the side, squinting slightly through the falling snow, then smiled at a familiar figure.

"Little cold out tonight, huh?" she said softly. Out of the shadows, Willy Wonka walked up to her, and grinned.

"A little," he said, shivering. She stretched out her arms and hugged him tightly. "I haven't seen you in forever!" he said cheerfully. "Last time I saw you to were carrying a wide load."

"It's called being pregnant, wise guy," she said nudging him.

"So where's the little guy?" he asked.

"Asleep... along with the big guy. What's that?" She pointed to something in his hands and he glanced down at it.

"Oh," he said. "This is for you. It's Christmas, right?" She nodded and he handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said with a grin, and hugged him again. "You can always drop by you know. Don't need to be so reclusive in that factory of yours."

"We'll see," he said with a nod. "I'm glad to see you're doing well. I really am, Mandy."

"I've got you to thank," she said, then shivered again with the next cold breeze.

"I'd better go. No sense in you freezing to death out here." She stepped up to him and kissed his cheek gently.

"Thankyou," she whispered in his ear, and she left back for her house, waving to him before turning her back towards him. Once she was safe inside her warm house she went into the living room by the fire and opened the package. Inside was a box of peanutbutter cups, all of them wearing a peanutbutter 'W' on the tops of them, and she ate one there, smiling contently as she watched the flames dance in the fireplace.

THE END

(A/N: After finally finishing this I have come to the conclusion that I loathe this fic. If you liked it then thanks, but if not, I'm not offended. Oh well, reviews going either way are appreciated.  
-Smeagol's girl)


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